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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27885799">Like Fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maroucia/pseuds/Maroucia'>Maroucia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon - Book, F/M, because of the underage deal, dubcon, teenager/adult relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:48:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27885799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maroucia/pseuds/Maroucia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor Clegane moves North after an early retirement from a career as an MMA fighter. His next-door neighbours, the Starks, aren’t really friendly, but it’s not like he cares. When he saves the family’s striking sixteen years old daughter from drowning though, everything changes…</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>329</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi to all!</p><p>I know I should be working on my other fic, but inspiration struck and I had no choice but to go with it. As said in the summary, this is a modern AU fic in which I kept sansan’s canon age difference and Sansa is 16 years old so it’s definitely not a morally acceptable or legal relationship. However, it’s sort of the whole point of this fic, so if it’s something that triggers you, I advise you to skip it. I did put a dubcon tag on this fic as I realise Sansa’s consent is questionable given she’s a minor but this is not a dubcon fic per se as Sansa is 100% willing.<br/>I’d like to thank Athena-Noctua-Bubo for betaing this fic and also, to give a shout-out to MagicMyth83 who wrote Sandor saving Sansa from drowning in their fic ‘The Pier’. I’d have loved to come up with something more original, but it just felt too perfect for this story and so I went ahead with it anyway. The Pier is an excellent fic btw and I recommend everyone who has not read it yet to do it! </p><p>This fic was meant to be a one shot, but as it got pretty long, I decided to post it in two parts. The second one is already written and coming soon! I hope those who give it a shot will enjoy it and if you do, please let me know! :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ever since he saved her from drowning, the damned girl followed him around, like a little puppy. It was hell and Sandor cursed under his breath anytime he saw her approach him and yet at the same time, there was no denying the thrill he got from being by her side. She was like a drug to him, one he knew damned well he ought to quit but didn’t have the willpower to. He’d sunk himself neck deep in this bloody fix without even really resisting and in the end, only had himself to blame. It was pathetic.</p><p>It all started when Sandor moved to his little seaside bungalow. After a fifteen year career as an MMA fighter, he figured it was time to retire. The last thing he wanted was another concussion and risk becoming as daft as some of the other guys in the circuit. He’d saved a lot of money over the years and won a very impressive sum when he landed the Grand Prix of the last championship he participated in. Ending his career on a high note was a nice bonus on top of that and so he gladly took the money and called it a day.</p><p>For nearly a decade, Sandor dreamed of finding a house by the ocean where he could lead a quiet existence away from the hustle and bustle of the city once he stopped fighting. When he saw the listing for his bungalow not long before he retired, he didn’t hesitate and drove all the way to the North the very next day to visit it. Sandor fell in love with the place from the instant he got out of his car and made an offer after a single tour of the property. The bungalow was old and small but the eternal bachelor he was didn’t need all that much space and the work it required would keep him occupied. The lot was incredible. Not that large but very long. The house was built close to the road and the land behind it stretched all the way to a harsh rocky beach and ended with the boundless sea.</p><p>Sandor moved in just three weeks after his first visit and met his nearest neighbours on the following day. At first, the reception from the Starks was cold to say the least. The parents, a haughty middle-aged couple, didn’t seem very impressed with the tattoo covered, nearly seven-foot-tall brute that he was. It probably didn’t help that he still bore scars from his final fight, just a week prior. His nose had been broken yet another time and was marred with a red slash and his left eye was swollen from a half-healed blackeye.</p><p>After they introduced themselves and got their look up-close, they pretty much went on their way at once and barely saluted him afterwards when they saw him doing yard work or repairs on his house. It was not as if Sandor cared. What did he have to do with those snobs? He knew he didn’t fit in the area. Houses in these parts were expensive, even those as small as his, and guys like him usually didn’t have the funds to afford anything even miles away from the coast. They had to curse their bad luck and believe they had won the neighbour negative lottery with him, an idea that did amuse him in a wry sort of way.</p><p>The Starks’ house was at least six times the size of his, yet it was filled with people and appeared very chaotic at times, something Sandor didn’t envy. First, there was Eddard Stark, the patriarch of the family, a stern man who always sported a frown on his brow and never seemed to wear anything other than the most somber and uncomfortable-looking suits. Then, there was the matriarch, Catelyn Tully, a good-looking woman who Sandor might have found attractive had it not been for the perpetual bitchy expression on her face and the aura of coldness there was about her. As for the children, Sandor didn’t know their names and never talked to any of them but he’d deduced there were five after a few days of living next-door. Each annoyed Sandor in their own way: the younger boys broke his ears with their yells when they played outside in their yard, the middle child, a tomboy, often made jumps in his driveway with her skateboard when she thought he was not looking and the older son was a football obsessed jock exactly the kind Sandor despised in his youth.</p><p>And then, there was the older sister, whose obvious fear of him got on his nerves. He ought not to be surprised, pretty things like her had always been daunted by him, ever since he was a boy. And she was pretty alright, the beauty of the family without a doubt. Her auburn hair was like her mother’s, only brighter and much longer, and she shared her milky complexion, but there the comparison ended. Her face didn’t have the same severity; to the contrary, it was as pretty as doll’s with big blue, innocent eyes and lips like strawberries. She was tall and graceful with a thin yet womanly figure and a gait that made it seem like she was as light as a bloody feather as she walked, or perhaps more accurately where Sandor was concerned, as she scurried away from him. Yes, because that’s what she did whenever she saw him, even from afar. Her eyes growing as wide as saucers, she would gasp and turn on her heels to stride off without a word, as if she feared her life was in danger if she so much as stood a few metres from him. Sandor noticed her, that was true enough. She was a striking teenager, the kind he would’ve mooned over when he was her age. But he was no boy. He was a thirty-two-year-old man with better things to do than to chase after teenagers. The bloody girl needn’t fear him.</p><p>The dynamic with his new neighbours might have remained unchanged forever if not for events that took place one hot summer evening. Sitting on a rock by the sea, Sandor was drinking a beer, distractedly watching the reflections the sun made on the waves in the distance, when he suddenly heard cries coming from the Starks’ house. Peering over his shoulder, he discerned the shape of people panicking on the deck and realised something wrong was going on in the sea. Standing up, Sandor shielded his eyes and glimpsed a flash of red hair, flowing away in the unforgiving waters and then, disappearing into a rush of white foam. As he was the closest, Sandor did not hesitate. Swiftly undressing to his boxers, he jumped in the water and swam, against the strong current till he found the girl. He swam back to the coast holding her and keeping her head above water and laid her out on the beach before anyone had time to reach them. As he had feared, it was the Stark girl, the pretty one, unconscious in a little blue bikini. She was as pale as a sheet and unresponsive and without even thinking it over, Sandor got on his knees and gave her mouth to mouth resuscitation. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably just a few seconds, her eyes popped open and she began coughing up water on her chest and wheezing as air filled up her lungs.</p><p>As she began breathing normally again, Sansa  became aware of his presence and gazed up at him, her eyes taking on a look of awe from the moment they met his. Stooped sideways over her with his face inches from hers, Sandor stared back at her, adrenaline rushing through his veins and his pulse hammering so loudly in his ears, he couldn’t hear a thing. People gathered around them, however, the Earth might as well have stopped turning for as much as he noticed their presence. Sandor was too mesmerised by the big blue eyes observing him to glance away. The deep cobalt pools of her irises drawing him in and threatening to drown him. He might have stayed there forever, entranced, if not for her mother crouching by their side and taking the girl in her arms.</p><p>“Sansa!” the woman cried. “Sansa, are you alright, sweetheart?” she asked with motherly concern.</p><p><em>Sansa, </em>Sandor mused. The name suited her perfectly, somehow. It was beautiful. Straightening his back and sitting back on his heels, he followed the girl’s lithe form with his gaze as she was whisked away to her house by her mother and other faceless people. Eddard Stark briefly thanked him, but Sandor barely registered a word he said and soon, he found himself all alone on the shore, shaken by what he had just experienced. What the fuck had just happened?</p><p>From then on, Sandor’s relationship with the Starks was turned on its head. He was no longer the unwelcomed new rogue neighbour, but a friend in their eyes. On the very next day, Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully knocked on his door and brough him a homemade pie and jam prepared from the raspberries that grew on their propriety. They thanked him profusely for having saved their sweet daughter’s life and gave him their phone number, assuring him that if he needed help with anything at all, he only had to ring them and they would be more than happy to lend it. Sandor nodded and exchanged his phone number with them as well; he didn’t really want their friendship but he could see the benefits of being in good terms with his neighbours, so he was not about to refuse them.</p><p>A few days later, it was the girl’s turn to come by. Sandor was watching a movie with his blinds shut when he heard his bell ring. He wasn’t expecting anyone and was utterly taken aback when he opened the door and saw her stand on his doorstep with a plastic container full of cookies in her hands. She craned her neck, her face briefly taking on a deer in headlights expression as she met his gaze, yet she quickly schooled her featured and shyly smiled at him. For a few seconds, Sandor just stared back at her dumbly, frozen in place. She was just so bloody stunning in that pastel green sundress she wore, it was ridiculous. How could anyone be so beautiful? Her pale skin looked as soft as porcelain and her cheeks were pink with a blush. Her long auburn hair was loose and fell in luxurious waves over her bare shoulders and her legs were long and shapely… Even her sandal-clad feet were perfect, he noticed as he glanced down her calves, her manicured little toes as pretty as petals.</p><p>Before Sandor could find something to say, the girl grasped her courage and started speaking.</p><p>“Good afternoon, Sandor… I… I realise we were never introduced,” she started in a soft, melodic voice. “I should have come to you before and welcome you to our neighbourhood. I’m… I’m so sorry for that. I’m Sansa, I live next door to you.”</p><p>Sandor almost burst out laughing. As if he hadn’t noticed. “Hi,” he said, his voice rougher than usual.</p><p>“I… I wanted to thank you for what you did for me. You were so brave. When the undercurrent got me, I was sure I would die. I shouldn’t have gone swimming on my own. That was stupid, I realise it now,” she said, her eyes growing wide and distressed at the memory.</p><p>“T’was nothing. No need to thank me,” Sandor rasped, the burnt corner of his mouth twitching. He felt uncharacteristically uncomfortable standing before her. Her gaze on him was too earnest to his liking, her smile too gentle, and he surveyed her warily, like he expected her to bite at any moment.</p><p>Her eyes sparkling with gratitude, Sansa vigorously shook her head and insisted he was wrong. In a haze, Sandor listened as she repeated, again and again, how very thankful she was and marvelled at how courageous and heroic he had been, using more superlatives than he knew existed. She assured him she would forever remember how he rescued her, that she was indebted to him and so the very least she could do was bake him her favourite cookies.</p><p>Beaming, she handed him the container, her fingers shaking as she did. Sandor accepted it and only then noticed the pretty little card inside of it, resting on the wax paper that covered the cookies.</p><p>“It’s an invitation, for my sixteenth nameday barbeque party,” she told him timidly. “I made it myself. My whole family would like you to join us.”</p><p>Staring down at it wordlessly, Sandor’s mind went completely blank for an instant.</p><p>“I’d really like you to be there too, Sandor,” Sansa added, her cheeks flushing crimson. “You saved me, so it would only make sense if you were there to celebrate my life with us. Will you come? It’s on next Saturday.”</p><p>And of course, like an idiot, Sandor agreed. Hence a week later, he stopped by his neighbours’ yard and spent a couple of despicable hours making small talk with people he didn’t give a fuck about. He felt like such an intruder among all those lawyers, doctors, politicians and businessmen and wanted to leave from the moment he arrived. Yet every time he caught Sansa furtively glance his way, he was reminded of how important him being here today was for her and so he resisted the urge he had to escape like a thief. After having had a number of uninteresting conversations, gulping down a few hot dogs and drinking a couple of beers, Sandor figured his presence had lasted long enough and that he could return home without feeling guilty. But first, he needed to tell Sansa goodbye and to give her his present. <em>Yes</em>, because like the bloody halfwit he was, on the very next day the girl had invited him, Sandor ventured downtown and headed to a fancy little shop to buy her the most expensive chocolate box they had.</p><p>Finding her alone by the buffet table, Sandor wished her a happy nameday and told her he was about to leave.</p><p>“But first, this is for you,” he said, handing her the box.</p><p>The girl took it, her face lighting up beautifully and eyes shining with delight.</p><p>“For me? Oh, you shouldn’t have!” she cried, her mouth agape like she couldn’t believe it.</p><p>Sandor snorted, wasn’t that a bit much? “It’s your nameday; I couldn’t have come emptyhanded, could I?” he rasped as nonchalantly as he could.</p><p>Sansa gave him a bright smile and then took her long time admiring the wrapping paper and pretty bow. She was wearing another one of those breezy sundresses, yellow this time, and with the soft wind, it kept flying about her thighs. The fact that Sandor managed to not constantly glance down at her legs was nothing short of miraculous, though the knowledge that Eddard Stark stood only a few metres away was most certainly a good incentive to keep himself in check if there was ever one.</p><p>“It looks so nice,” she commented, glancing at him through her lashes.</p><p>“Don’t thank me for that. The shop wrapped it for me. It would look like trash if I did it myself. Why don’t you open it now?” Sandor asked, feeling a bit impatient and fidgety.</p><p>Giggling, the girl proceeded to delicately unwrap it without so much as tearing the paper once.  When she was finally done, she gasped happily and thanked him profusely, as grateful as if he’d given her a bloody diamond necklace.</p><p>“Oh! How did you know this was my favourite chocolate brand? I love everything they make!”</p><p>Sandor laughed. “I didn’t. I just figured a girl like you would only love what’s best.”</p><p>A wide smile on her lips, Sansa rolled a lock of hair around her fingers and, fluttering her eyelashes, she gazed up at him like he was a buggering hero straight out of some stupid fairy-tale.</p><p>Sandor’s throat grew very dry and his heartbeat accelerated. He was no fool. He knew all too well what that look on her face meant: she had an innocent little teenage crush on him and no wonder, he had saved her bloody life! The problem was, Sandor was attracted to her as well, and not just a little. He’d do best to keep his distances from her starting <em>right fucking</em> now and to find a likely excuse to refuse any future invitation from the Starks. For all that she was sweet and pretty, Sansa would only bring him trouble. She needed to be avoided at all cost, but of course, that was easier said than done</p><p>After years of searching through the classified ads, Sandor had at long last found the exact car he’d dreamed of owning ever since he was a teenager: a 1250AC Shadowcat. It was a vintage model, all black and sleek, with an eight-cylinder engine that roared like the devil. It needed lots of work though so every afternoon, he spent an hour or two trying to restore and fix it in his garage. At this time of the year, the weather was still warm, thus Sandor kept his garage door opened as he worked. It might have been a good idea if he’d kept it shut, because soon, he realised Sansa had to walk right by his house each afternoon on her way home from school.</p><p>At first, it wasn’t so bad. The girl only waved at him as she passed by, a wide smile on her lips, and after he waved back at her, she continued on her way. Yet one day, saluting him from afar apparently wasn’t enough anymore and, her cheeks coloured a deep shade of pink, she walked to him and feigned interest in his car.</p><p>Had Sandor been smart, he’d have chased her off at once – told her he was fucking busy and didn’t want to be disturbed! – yet, he’d been too enraptured by her beauty to think straight. Instead, like the bloody halfwit he was, he foolishly offered her a soda.</p><p>“Do you have cherry cola?” the girl asked, when he opened the small fridge he had in his garage.</p><p>“No, just regular cola,” Sandor answered, the corner of his mouth twitching.</p><p>She seemed slightly disappointed but accepted it anyway. Drinking dainty sips, she then proceeded to stroll about his garage and examine every detail of it, asking questions about his car, his motorcycle, his barbells, all the while pretending she hadn’t noticed the nudie calendar that hung on his wall.</p><p>“Your weights are twice as big as Rob’s!” Sansa exclaimed, gazing down at them in wonder. “Do you really lift them?”</p><p>“Of course. Why the hells do you think I’d have them otherwise?” Sandor mocked her.</p><p>Giggling, she glanced at him over her shoulder and turned her attention to his MMA trophies. “Sandor ‘the Hound’ Clegane,” the girl read on one of them. “The Hound? What’s that about?”</p><p>“A moniker I was given early on. It stuck.”</p><p>“I like it,” she said, touching the trophy with light fingers.</p><p>Sandor sighed; it was hard to keep his focus with her in the room. For all that he was bowed over his engine with his wrench in hand, his progression had pretty much come to a halt.</p><p>“You have so many trophies! I’m sure you were the strongest. Why did you quit?”</p><p>“I had enough. Extreme fighting is rough on the body. Didn’t want to end up like some of the older guys in the circuit.”</p><p>Sansa turned from the belt she had been gazing at to smile at him brightly. “I’m glad you did or else you would never have moved here and saved me. I think it was all meant to be.”</p><p>Sandor snorted and once more attempted to turn his attention on his bloody engine, yet his eyes kept darting back to her, he couldn’t help it. She simply looked too damned gorgeous in her little schoolgirl uniform, like an angel come from the Seven Heavens, an ethereal creature standing there in his dirty, buggering garage… but she was like fire too. Sixteen-years old. He should keep her at arm length or she would burn him, he was well aware of that. And if anyone knew how fire could burn, it was Sandor. Fire was unforgiving and so would she be for him if he so much as touched her.</p><p>And so, he tried to be as curt as he could in his answers and didn’t make any effort to be pleasant. Logically, Sandor thought, she would not come back after that. She would see him for the gruff brute he was and leave him the fuck alone.</p><p>And yet, she did not.</p><p>From that day on, whenever Sandor worked on his Shadowcat in the afternoon, Sansa stopped by after school to chat and watch him at his task, same as if he was on representation. He was at a loss as to what he should do… or no, that was a load of bullshit. He knew very well what it was that he ought to do: he needed to get his shit together and tell her to get the fuck out of his garage! And yet every day, like a spectator to his own life, Sandor helplessly watched himself do exactly the opposite and offer her a soft drink as she arrived. The girl joyfully accepted it and beamed at him as she sipped from her straw, telling him about her day and asking him about his.</p><p>The worst was, Sandor bought a huge pack of cherry cola the day after her first impromptu visit. He hadn’t been able resist the impulse when he saw it at the grocery store and had not allowed himself to think about what it implied about his intentions. He still had not, not really. He knew what message it sent her though: <em>she was a welcomed guess</em>. Seven Hells but he was being so fucking dumb.</p><p>Most often when she spent time with him, Sansa sat on the stool by his workbench, her shapely legs swigging before her as she sipped her cherry cola. Bent under his hood, Sandor would peek at her perfect calves and thighs as they swayed lazily, cursing inwardly whenever he felt himself harden.</p><p>“Is everything OK?” Sansa asked him once that he was having one particularly raging erection and had become irritated with himself for it.</p><p>The corner of his mouth twitching, Sandor averted his eyes uneasily. “Those damn pistons. They’ve got all soothed up and are stuck; I can’t remove them,” he growled. Thankfully, with his car between them, he adjusted himself out of her sight, a luxury he didn’t always have.</p><p>About a week later, Sandor had another close call. He’d been laying on his mechanic's creeper and just about to roll himself beneath his car, when the girl joyfully announced to him that she’d been selected to play the piano in her school orchestra. In her excitement, she jumped off of her stool and skipped to him.</p><p>“I’m so happy!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together before her chest. “There were so many that coveted playing the piano and I was sure Margaery would be picked, but I was!”</p><p>As she kept on babbling about the concerto they would practice this semester, Sandor had to use all of his self control not to straight out stare under her skirt at the glorious expanse of thighs that was revealed and the hint of panties he got as she moved around.</p><p>“That’s great,” he said, growing very tense, in every sense of the word.</p><p>Unaware of the view she was offering him, Sansa went on, enumerating the names and instruments of everyone in the orchestra - like he had the faintest idea who those people were. While Sandor was reluctant to leave such a choice position, the throbbing steel bar his cock had become and the very obvious bulge it created in his jean quickly forced him to make an urgent exit.</p><p>In one fast movement, he stood from his place on the ground and put his back to her, the creeper vacillating noisily on the concrete floor for a second or two afterwards.</p><p>“What happened?” Sansa squeaked, her voice high-pitched with worry. “Did you hurt yourself?”</p><p>“I’m fine, just need a drink of water,” Sandor muttered, striding to his fridge and tucking his fully erect shaft under his waistband.</p><p>By some miracle, Sansa didn’t notice anything on that day - she never did. Her oblivion was a blessing of course, and still for all of that, sometimes as he lay awake in his bed at night, Sandor wondered what she’d do if instead of concealing his arousal, he’d purposely draw her attention to it. Would she be shocked or curious? But thoughts like these were a slippery slope he did best to avoid, he knew that very well, and most often, he blocked them off the moment they reached his mind.</p><p>The nights he gave in and didn’t try to fight them, Sandor never-failingly ended up jerking off with all the thirst of a sex starved man while picturing everything he’d do to her during her afternoon visits in his garage if she wasn’t so fucking young. The list of scenarios he came up with over time was long and each option was more titillating than the next. In a recent one, he pulled the girl down on his face as he lay on his mechanic's creeper and ate her pretty little cunt till she came undone against his mouth. In another, he bent her over his Shadowcat's trunk and lifted her plaid skirt to take her from behind. Her long silky hair rolled around his hand, he pulled just enough to make her squeak and arch her back beautifully. He made her ride him too, sometimes, as he sat in the old armchair in the corner of his garage. She never kept her proper white blouse and short black tie on as she mounted him, no Sandor liked the idea of her tits bouncing in his face too much for that. He’d suck her nipples and clamp his hands around her pert arse cheeks, his eyes pinned on her and drinking the sight of her in as she worked so devotedly towards her climax. The little perfectionist she was would not abandon until she succeeded in reaching the Seven Heavens and she would want to please him too, he knew that. In his fantasies, Sansa was always horny and eager and begged him for more and Sandor was more than happy to oblige, fucking her over and over again in all the positions he could think of.</p><p>For as long as those often lengthy masturbation sessions lasted, Sandor was in another world, one where nothing but his personal gratification mattered. It was easy to forget everything that was wrong about what he was up to with lust clouding his mind and his fist clenched around his cock. After his peak receded and he came back to reality though, he always felt like utter shit and promised himself it was the last time. He wasn’t supposed to do that thinking of her.</p><p>Sansa’s daily visits were Sandor’s own personal hell and his desire for her tortured him. And yet, for all of that, the truth was, he did enjoy her company for reasons that had nothing to do with the physical attraction he felt for her. She was genuinely interested in hearing his opinion and getting advice from him, he could tell, and their conversations were never boring, which was unexpected seeing as they had so little in common. And though he mocked her for it, Sandor in fact admired her sweet and kind nature. It was not often that you met someone who had such a pure heart. He knew it sounded corny and cliché, but oh well, what could he do about it? It was the bloody truth! And she had such a beautiful, soft voice, she could talk to him about anything and he’d never tire of hearing her speak. She had a nice laugh too and giggled all the time when he made jokes, even stupid or coarse ones he ought to keep for himself. As she laughed, Sansa sometimes fluttered her long lashed at him like the innocent little temptress she was, a sight that never felled to wake an odd achy feeling in Sandor’s chest. Seven Hells, had she been older, he’d have asked her out, made a move on her, but the situation was just impossibly hopeless…</p><p>At one point, Sandor figured enough was enough. It was madness to allow their little afternoon unofficial rendezvous to go on. He had to put a stop to it all and the sooner the better.</p><p>One Monday morning, instead of working on his car, he went to the gym till dinner time. He surmised it was best he didn’t stay home: what if the girl rang his door when she saw his garage door was closed? Sandor felt like a coward not telling her, face to face, this <em>thing</em> between them, whatever the fuck it was, was over, however it seemed much simpler to just let it die on its own. Anyway, it wasn’t as if he ever promised her anything – while daily, her visits had never been anything but spontaneous.</p><p>For the remainder of the week, Sandor repeated the same modus operendi and headed to the gym around the time Sansa’s school got out. On Friday morning though, as the weather was beautiful and not too warm, he decided to go for a motorcycle ride instead. He took the road that followed the coast south of his house and then turned towards the mountain range when he reached the White river a couple of hours away. At one of the picturesque villages nestled high on the peaks, he stopped to eat a hamburger and fries. Sandor craved a beer and yet somehow, he ended up ordering a cherry cola even though he didn’t like the flavour. As he sipped it, he distractedly looked at the view out the window by his table and wondered what the little bird was doing. Yes, because that was his nickname for her – another indication that things had gone too far. She had such a sweet, melodic voice and he often teased her that she should sing a pretty little song, just for him. She only giggled and never did it, neither did she understand his innuendo, which was probably for the best.</p><p>Sandor hoped this abrupt stop to their daily meetings hadn’t made her feel rejected or sad, but he reasoned that at her age, teenagers quickly got over heartaches and that she’d most likely forget him in no time. She might already have found herself a more age appropriate boyfriend, which would all be for the best seeing how she’d leave him alone for good. Sansa was such a gorgeous girl, there had to be lots boys following her around on the schoolgrounds during the day. Sandor shifted uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly crushed with a dark, shattering heaviness that made him lose his appetite even though he still had plenty of fries left. He felt stupid for it, still his hatred for that fictional, faceless boyfriend of hers was real. He had best get used to the idea. He was the Starks’ next-door neighbour and he was bound to see the little bird at a boy’s arm sooner or later.</p><p>The ride back home was uneventful and didn’t do anything to improve Sandor’s mood. When he arrived in his driveway, he killed his motorcycle’s engine and removed his helmet. Only as he swung himself off of his seat did he notice Sansa, sitting on his stairs. Sandor cursed under his breath. He had lost track of time and came back too early, it seemed. And indeed, it was pretty much their unofficial meeting time, he realised as he glanced at his watch.</p><p>“Sandor!” she exclaimed, standing up. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of pink and her eyes wide with surprise, like she hadn’t truly believed he’d show up. Gods, but she was stunning in that impeccable little uniform of hers and with her long coppery hair falling freely all the way to her waist. Sandor was a bit taken aback as she approached him in fact, it seemed like his memory had not done her justice. “Where have you been all week?” she asked, her perfectly shaped eyebrows knitting.</p><p>Setting his features in a scowl, Sandor fished his keys out of his jeans’ pocket and pressed his key fob to open the garage door. “I’ve been busy,” he rasped, avoiding her gaze.</p><p>“Oh, I understand,” the girl said, though the tone of her voice made it clear she was disappointed he would not elaborate.</p><p>Feeling absurdly guilty for it, Sandor brought his motorcycle to its spot in the garage, watching her out the corner of his eyes as she followed him inside.</p><p>His back to her, Sandor sighed, unsure what he should do next.</p><p>“I missed you,” the girl whispered softly.</p><p>Sandor almost had a heart attack at that. He had not expected her to be so blunt. At a loss, he glanced at her over his shoulder, his pulse resounding in his ears. “I wager you want a cherry cola,” he stated, eager to change the subject at once. From the moment he spoke the damn words, he cursed himself for an idiot. Wasn’t he supposed to chase her away?</p><p>The smile she gave him at that would have broken the heart of any man. “Mm hmm,” she hummed happily, nodding.</p><p>Sandor opened his fridge and all but tossed the can in her hands. He was angry at himself for being so weak and dumb where she was concerned. How was it possible that he always lost his bloody resolves when she was around?</p><p>Sipping at her cherry cola, Sansa strolled to his motorcycle and touched it with delicate fingers. “Where did you go?”</p><p>“I just drove around,” he muttered, removing his leather jacket and hanging it after a peg.</p><p>Sansa lost her smile for an instant, but then she breathed: “I like your motorcycle. It’s beautiful and you look so… so badass riding it. Would you… would you take me with you next time? I’ve never been on a motorcycle ride.”</p><p>Sandor might as well have been hit on the head, he was so dazed by her demand. An image of the two of them, her body pressed against his as they rode in the sunset flashed in his mind, but he swiftly shook himself.</p><p>Exhaling a deep, shivering sigh, he swept a hand over his face and shook his head.</p><p>“No, little bird, I won’t.”</p><p>“Why?” Sansa asked. The pained expression she wore was truly heartbreaking and the sight brought a painful pang to Sandor’s chest, yet now that he was in the mist of if, he couldn’t back down. He had to go through with this.</p><p>“Because… because it’s just a fucking awful idea, that’s why. What do you think your parents would make of it? You think they’d approve of you, clinging to me as I drive you to some lover’s lane?” He laughed bitterly at that.</p><p>Sansa blushed red, her luscious lips set in a sullen line. “They wouldn’t have to know,” she replied quietly.</p><p>Sandor eyed her like she had lost her mind and snorted in disbelief. “You’d want us to sneak off behind your parents’ back? Is that really what you’re telling me?” He wanted to snigger at that stupid notion of hers, yet only managed a weak, throaty grunt. “I bet you’d tell them you’re spending the evening at a friend’s house, or perhaps you’d climb out your bedroom window after having kissed your mum goodnight? Seven bloody Hells… this is not gonna happen, Sansa. I’m too old for that shit.” Then, Sandor frowned, a sudden thought hitting him.  “Do your parents even know about those little afternoon visits you’ve been paying me for the last couple of months?”</p><p>Sansa bit her full bottom lip, her hesitation the only answer Sandor needed.</p><p>Massaging the bridge of his nose, he exhaled deeply. “Course they don’t. I don’t expect they’d like it very much either.”</p><p>Sandor paused for an instant to appraise her. Tears were gathering at the corner of her beautiful blue eyes and her lips were trembling. Ignoring the guilty feeling the view woke in him, he dived right in. The band aid had to be ripped off eventually and there’d never be a more appropriate occasion.</p><p>“Little bird… you gotta stop popping in on me. This has lasted way too long already. Find yourself something else to do after school. Don’t you have friends your own age you could hang out with? Wouldn’t that be more interesting than watching this old dog restore his buggering car.”</p><p>Her eyes growing round and distraught, Sansa lifted a hand to her chest and gasped. “You… you don’t want me to stop by anymore?” she asked, her voice breaking.</p><p>There was such distress in her expression, a look of sheer loss that was utterly heart-wrenching. The corner of Sandor’s mouth twitched. He felt like the hugest asshole who ever walked this Earth to be the cause of her turmoil. At the same time, he knew he was doing the right thing, no matter how it killed him to see the effect his words had on her. He wouldn’t rid himself of her by offering her cherry cola and being friendly to her though.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s what I said,” he rasped, forcing himself to glower at her. “I’m not your bloody friend, Sansa, you have to understand that. I had enough of your constant chirping disturbing my bloody peace. Those wheels would be running by now if it wasn’t for you, continuously interrupting my train of thoughts with your endless questions. You’re just a fucking girl. What the fuck do you think we have in common? <em>Nothing</em>. This’s been just a bloody waste of my time and yours.”</p><p>As he blurted it all out, Sansa’s delicate features remained nearly motionless. Apart from a tension in her jaw, the wet gleam in her eyes and the increasing paleness of her skin, there was nothing. Yet as he finally shut up, she blinked and averted her gaze. A small, pitiful noise escaped her lips and two big tears rolled down her cheeks. With a shaky hand, she put her can of cherry cola on the workbench by her side and buried her face in her palms, her body quavering.</p><p>Sandor watched her for a moment, feeling like a buggering monster. While he long believed his heart to be no more than a blackened piece of meat hard enough to be unbreakable, to see her in this state shattered it to dust. He might as well have stood in the cage in his days as a fighter and allowed his opponent to punch and kick him till he was an unresponsive wreck on the ground and he would not have felt more beaten up. A sudden urge to drown himself in whiskey overwhelmed him. He needed to get absolutely pissed - enough that he’d lose all restraint and head to the nearest bar in search of trouble. There, he’d get into a real brawl, one that would leave him bruised and bloody enough that he wouldn’t recognise his own reflection in the mirror. That was all he deserved for what he’d done to Sansa. He’d hurt her. The little bird was such a gentle and kind creature; he wasn’t worthy of being anywhere near her. Not even one bit.</p><p>For all of his noble reflections, as the girl made a move to leave, Sandor saw himself grab her wrist to stop her. “Sansa… wait, don’t go,” he rasped, cursing himself even as he did. What in the Seven Hells was he <em>doing</em>?</p><p>Tensing, Sansa craned her neck gazing up at him with an air of sheer confusion. Her face glistened with tears and her eyes red and puffy, but her beauty was in no way diminished. To the contrary, her sadness granted her a womanly vulnerability that called on Sandor’s protective instinct. As if it had a mind of its own, his hand rose to her cheek, his thumb and knuckles gently dabbing her tears away. Sansa’s eyes grew wide in surprise and her lips parted but she didn’t pull back and allowed him to dry both her cheeks.</p><p>Releasing her wrist, Sandor lifted his other hand and carefully brushed away the strands of hair that had fallen on her brow. “Stop crying, little bird, I don’t deserve your tears. And you certainly didn’t deserve to be talked to like I did. I’m just… I’m just such an asshole,” he murmured.</p><p>Gods, her skin was so very soft.  Sandor had often wondered if it was as smooth as it looked. And the way she gazed at him as he delicately traced the line of her cheekbone, it was as if he was all she had ever dreamed of.</p><p>Shaking her head, the girl leaned her cheek into his palm. “No, that’s not true, you’re not,” she murmured.</p><p>The blue of her eyes was incredible. Their rich hue had so much depth in them and yet, so much brightness as well. It reminded Sandor of the sea on a beautiful sunny day, of how the play of light overlapped the multi layered, increasingly dark, irresistible waters. Suddenly, Sandor had the strongest sense of déjà-vu, so intense in fact that he felt as if he was in a dream. An image of the two of them, Sansa and him, laying on the rocky beach just after he saved her from the treacherous sea flashed in his mind. He had nearly drowned in the pure sapphire pools of her eyes on that day and now, it was threatening to happen again. This time though, there was no one to pull her away from him and break the spell. Irresistibly, Sandor leaned towards her, the space between them growing smaller with every passing seconds. It took him a moment to grasp what was about to happen.</p><p>When he did, he sighed, well-aware he was about to make a very big mistake. “You’re wrong, little bird. I am an asshole,” Sandor whispered. And with that, he bent down and kissed her.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well now here’s the second and final chapter to this fic! Once more, thanks to Athena-Noctua-Bubo for her help! If you enjoyed, please let me know! :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sansa dreamt about a moment like this one for a very long time. Three months: it was an eternity! Ever since Sandor Clegane saved her from drowning, she had been madly in love with him. He was so tall, so strong and unexpectedly handsome in spite of his burns and blunt features.</p>
<p>And to think that for the first few months after he moved in next door, Sansa was terrified of him! Apart from the true crime documentaries and motorcycle club series she sometimes watched on television, she’d never seen a man who looked even remotely similar to him before and her prejudice blinded her completely. She convinced herself Sandor had to be a felon of some sort, mean tempered and dangerous. And indeed, with his uniform of leather jackets and old-looking jeans and t-shirt, his tattooed arms and intimidating height and build, he surely looked the part. No one would ever hire a guy like him for a legitimate high paying job, of that Sansa was certain, and so he must have amassed his fortune thanks to organised crime. Weren’t the scars that marred half of his face proof of that? He most likely received them as a retribution to some atrocity he committed. While Sansa was now ashamed to admit it, the sight of them had repulsed her back then – worse, she’d reasoned he didn’t deserve sympathy for it as they had undoubtedly been well earned.</p>
<p>Her impression of him couldn’t have changed more drastically. In the span of just an instant it seemed, her feelings went from one extreme to the other. On the day following her brush with death, Sansa’s parents paid Sandor a visit to thank him for what he’d done. While she whished to accompany them, Sansa remained in bed to rest. Her throat still ached from all the sea water she swallowed and she felt a little weak and dizzy, however it was to be expected according to the doctor and he’d promised she’d recover swiftly. When Mum and Dad returned she questioned them about this new neighbour she knew nothing about but to whom she owed her life. Already, Sansa felt something deep down inside of her was different, starting with that new curiosity the thought of him roused in her. Ever since her return home from the hospital the previous night, she kept replaying in her mind what little she remembered of her near-drowning and rescue and whenever she got to the part when she came round and saw him hover over her with his dark grey eyes pinned on her, butterflies filled her stomach.</p>
<p>Clearly, her parents’ perception of him had improved as well, for they smiled good-naturedly as they relayed what information they had about him. Thanks to them, Sansa learned he was a retired extreme fighting champion who’d come from King’s Landing to lead a quiet life here in the North. He lived alone and had no children, but he’d like to adopt a dog eventually, preferably from a shelter, her parents told her. He seemed like a good man after all, they concluded, and they’d been wrong to judge a book by its cover. When Sansa timidly broached the subject, Daddy chuckled and assured her there was no reason to believe Sandor was involved in any sort of illegal activities. Reluctantly, he admitted he had asked a police officer friend to conduct a background check on Sandor just after his arrival. He hadn’t trusted him either in those early days and as Daddy was an attorney, he was well connected enough to easily receive favours of that kind. Sandor’s record came back clean and proved both Sansa and her father wrong. The money that allowed him to afford a house in their privileged area being won honestly and instead of the killer she’d imagined him to be, he was in fact a hero who’d risk his life to save hers…</p>
<p>From then on, all Sansa wanted was to spend time with him. Fortunately, occasions kept presenting themselves. First, she thanked  Sandor in person - it would have been very ungrateful not to, even her parents agreed and encouraged her to go ahead with it - and thus as soon as she felt well enough to leave the house, Sansa made herself as pretty as she could and brought him cookies she had baked especially for him. A week later, Sandor made an appearance at her nameday barbeque party and they got to chat a little. She’d been so very touched that he’d thought of getting her a present! But then after that, Sansa found herself at a loss. She didn’t know how to approach him, had ran out of plausible excuses, and it took an interminable two weeks before another occasion presented itself.</p>
<p>On the very first day of school, Sansa was walking home after class when her attention was caught by Sandor’s large shape, bowed over a black car in his garage as she passed by his house. Excited to finally see him, she smiled and waved at him, her grin broadening as he waved back. From then on, everything happened very naturally and in just a week’s time, she went from saluting him from the sidewalk as she returned home to stopping by to talk every afternoon. Soon, these rendezvous were just as much a part of Sansa’s schedule as her piano practice and dinnertime with her parents, though admittedly, everything else paled in comparison.</p>
<p>She treasured each moment she spent by Sandor’s side and progressively fell more deeply in love with him. There was nothing that she didn’t find attractive about him. Even his scars were no deterrent to her now, to the contrary, Sansa found they added to his uniqueness and rugged charm. She loved his husky voice and the sight of his broad chest stretching those old faded t-shirts he wore when he worked in his garage made her swoon. His tattooed arms were so big and sinewy and looked as hard as steel. Sansa longed to touch them and to see what lay beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. Were there more skulls, hellish scenery and monstruous creatures tattoos underneath that she didn’t know of? And did the hair which peeked out at his collar cover his entire torso? If he’d let her, she’d trace the muscles of his chest with her fingers, bury her face in his neck and lose herself in that musky, earthy scent of his…</p>
<p>Everyday in class, Sansa daydreamed about him and looked forward to the hour or so she would spend by his side as he fixed the nice vintage muscle car of his. Often, she made up scenarios in her head in which he picked her up after school with it once it was restored to its former glory. They would go for a ride all the way to the mountains to watch the sunset together and perhaps later on even kiss as the sky burned orange and pink in the background.</p>
<p>Sandor liked her as well, Sansa could tell, he would not put up with her and buy her cherry cola otherwise - it would make no sense - and she caught him observing her with an odd gleam in his eyes sometimes… While she may not be very experienced, Sansa had watched enough romantic movies to know what that look meant. The mere memory of it made her stomach flutter...</p>
<p>Over time, she came to think of him as a friend. A very good friend. Sansa could tell him anything and he seemed genuinely interested in her stories. As for herself, she immensely valued the advice he gave her and she loved to hear his take on every subject. He could be so pitiless sometimes and for some reason, Sansa found the uncouth remarks he came up with hilarious. He was just so different from anyone she knew…</p>
<p>When his garage door was closed on Monday, Sansa was disappointed, but figured Sandor had other things to do. When he still wasn’t there the next day, she grew increasingly melancholy. On Thursday, she sat on his porch stairs and waited, hoping he’d show up, yet he never came. She did the same today and was about to go home, crestfallen, when she heard the rumbling of his motorcycle’s engine in the distance and then, saw Sandor turn in his driveway.</p>
<p>He’d seemed a little aloof at first, but Sansa hadn’t given it a lot of importance; she knew Sandor well enough by now not to be daunted by his broodiness. Never in a million years would she have expected him to straight out tell her the friendship she believed had blossomed between them was no more than the fruit of her imagination. His rejection stung so badly! In just an instant, Sansa’s heart broke into a thousand pieces. She had been ready to run to her bedroom and cry in her pillow when he closed his fist around her wrist to stop her.</p>
<p>The kiss that followed took her by surprise to say the least. The change of mood was drastic enough with Sandor going from hostile to apologetic in the blink of an eye. The feel of his calloused fingers on her cheeks as he dried her tears took her breath away and her heart beat as swiftly as the of butterfly wings, but when he pressed his lips to hers, it was as if the world suddenly ceased to exist. Her legs grew weak under her and her head swam like she was about to faint, yet somehow, Sansa mustered the strength to remain standing. Her instincts took over, her lips responding without an ounce of hesitation. She had waited so long for a moment like this one, she was not about to let her chance fly away.</p>
<p>At first, the kiss they shared was very tender – just two pairs of lips becoming accustomed to each other with tentative caresses. For all of their respective restraint, there was undeniable passion to it, a shared thirst to feel and explore. Sandor’s mouth felt so good against hers; there was a pleasant plumpness to it that contrasted with the roughness of the scar tissue at its corner. And their lips – oh gods, they fit together perfectly. Like the pieces of a puzzle, no matter the motion or the angle they took, they always met like they were one and the same, like this kiss was meant to be. Sansa felt as if she was floating on clouds, as if she was in another dimension where everything was beauty and perfection.</p>
<p>Soon, their movements grew more supple and their mouths opened increasingly until the soft and wet cushiony surface of Sandor’s tongue touched her lips. Intuitively, Sansa poked the tip of her tongue out to meet it. Her action was received by a low growl and, bringing his hand behind her head to cradle it, Sandor entered her mouth with his tongue.</p>
<p>Sansa moaned softly. Never in her life had she experienced anything as sensual as the sensation of their tongues caressing each other. It was simply exquisite. Sansa loved the taste of Sandor’s mouth, there was something addictive about it, and though his stubble was scratching the skin around her lips and her neck was starting to ache from being tilted upward, she wanted it to last forever.</p>
<p>Sandor’s large hand was on her cheek, cupping it gently and the fingers of his other hand caressed her hair. Reaching up to his knuckles, Sansa traced the strong tendons that stretched on the back of his massive paw with her fingertips, amazed by the span of it.</p>
<p>Her touch seemed to bring him back to reality, for he abruptly left her mouth and pulled back from her. His mouth less than an inch from hers, Sandor stared back at her, his fierce grey eyes visibly troubled.</p>
<p>“Seven Hells,” he breathed. “Sansa, I… I...”</p>
<p>He hesitated, apparently searching for his words, yet Sansa was not interested in hearing him out. Not when she knew it’d be about regretting his actions. No! Sansa didn’t want him to regret something so beautiful. Snaking her arms around his neck, she pulled him down and crushed her lips to his before he could complete his sentence.</p>
<p>Her stratagem worked and while he cursed in her mouth, Sandor resumed kissing her even more hungrily. In fact, instants later, he circled her waist with his hands and lifted her in the air as if she weighed nothing.</p>
<p>Yelping, Sansa grasped his biceps before her bottom hit the hard wood of the workbench. “Damn you, little bird. Damn you,” he breathed, his mouth landing on her neck to lick and nuzzle her. He sniffed her, a little like a dog would. “Fuck, girl, you smell so bloody good. Like wild flowers and honey…”</p>
<p>Sansa hummed happily and threw her head back to give him better access. As she did, she glimpsed a movement behind him and tensed up. It was just a car rolling down the street, she realised with relief, but her reaction did not escape Sandor who glanced over his shoulder and swore.</p>
<p>“In plain bloody sight… this is fucking madness,” he grumbled. For all of that, he fumbled in his pocket and pressed on his key fob. The door slowly shut down in a metallic clatter, gradually blocking the daylight until only a silver of light at the bottom crept in the garage. Sandor threw his keyset on the workbench by Sansa’s side and lifted a hand to her face, his thumb resting on her cheek and his other fingers curled behind her head. He locked eyes with her and breathed out a heavy sigh. “You made it clear: you don’t want me to stop kissing you. And I won’t.” He snorted, his upper lip curling in a sneer. “Not that I think I could anyway, even if I tried,” he added, his thumb gingerly caressing her cheek.</p>
<p>Though Sansa thought he looked mad, Sandor pressed his lips to hers tenderly. She opened her mouth for him and eagerly met his tongue with hers, adamant about showing him he was right indeed, that his kisses were very much desired.</p>
<p>Both of her hands were still on his upper arms from when he hauled her up and timidly at first, she explored their breadth as she had so often dreamed to. Sansa was fascinated by the size of them, by their shape, and her stomach pulled in a tight, pulsing knot as she tested their solidity with her palm and fingers. She wondered if his chest was just as hard, his stomach, his thighs...</p>
<p>His fingers buried in her hair and tongue brushing against hers, Sandor massaged her waist, his hand going alternatively from the small of her back to her stomach in rapid successions. With each passing second, his touch grew in insistence and his fingers rose higher on her ribs until they grazed the bottom of her chest. Sansa shivered in a mix of excitement and nervousness, and then gasped as his palm engulphed one of her breasts and squeezed it gently. Somehow, she had not expected this. The sensation was very strange but pleasurable. No one had ever touched her boobs, not that way at least. She had dreamed of Sandor doing it though, there was no denying it. Sometimes when she lay awake in her bed at night, Sansa imagined that he was there with her and stroked her everywhere. She caressed her curves as she did, but her hands could never pass for his; they were so very small in comparison and to have one of his huge paws firmly knead her breast only made it more obvious.</p>
<p>Sandor’s hand travelled from one breast to the other, his thumb teasing each nipple in turn until they were hard and pointy enough that he could undoubtedly feel them poke through her bra and blouse. Warmth filled Sansa’s lower belly and the throbbing ache between her legs he sparked with his touch was just as delicious as it was unbearable. Unsure what to do with herself, Sansa squirmed against him and abandoned herself in their kiss, sucking at his tongue with unbridled eagerness.</p>
<p>Sandor exhaled a deep groan and left her mouth to trail his lips down her throat. Tilting her head back, Sansa shut her eyes and enjoyed the warmth of his mouth on her skin. As he distributed open mouth kisses down her neck, Sandor’s fingers moved over her chest to fumble with the buttons of her blouse. Her breath catching in her throat and eyes popping open, Sansa remained as still as a statue and listened to his coarse breathing as he urgently freed her from the clip-on tie and undid each button, one after the other. In no time, he had opened the shirt and tugged it down her shoulders. Throwing her blouse to the floor, Sandor brought his hands behind her back unhooking her bra. Sansa’s heart was racing. She was suddenly very self-conscious: what if he didn’t like what he saw? Would her boobs be to his taste? For all of her nerves, an instant later, she found herself nude from the waist up. Sansa shivered and lowered her gaze bashfully, her cheek flushed red. Though she couldn’t believe it possible, her nipples became even more stiff at the fresh air’s contact and goosebump sprouted all over her chest.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Sandor cursed. “Look at you and your perfect tits,” she heard him mutter, his voice as rough as metal on stone. As he spoke, Sandor cupped her breasts with his hands, their heat contrasting agreeably with the ambient air. “So fucking pert.”</p>
<p>His touch was maddingly soft, just the lightest of caresses, and Sansa shivered, unsure whether this was torture or utter bliss. She exhaled a quavering breath and let out a strangled little cry as he squeezed her boobs and rolled their sensitive tips between his thumbs and forefingers.</p>
<p>Sandor’s lips fell on her nipples suckling them gently, his palms circling the lower half of her breasts to direct them between his lips. Tingles ran through her, acute and visceral, and her insides tautened under the onslaught. All of a sudden, Sansa was overcome with a strange giddiness. The situation had escalated very quickly: just a few minutes before, she’d been sobbing, convinced that Sandor saw her as nothing more than his annoying teenage neighbour and now, in the blink of an eye it seemed, she was half naked in his arms, his mouth devouring her breasts. Never in a million years would she ever have expected such a turn of event when she went to leave after he’d rejected her, and yet, here they were. It was surreal.</p>
<p>Lowering a hand from her breasts, Sandor brought it to her lap to stroke her thigh. He caressed the outside and top of it, his fingers progressively creeping higher under her skirt even as he kept kissing her nipples and breasts. With growing boldness, he explored the expanse of skin hidden beneath the fabric, pushing her skirt upwards as he progressed and exposing her to his view. His greedy fingers soon wandered to her inner thigh to palm the soft skin there. Sansa tensed and then, sucked in her breath as his thumb brushed the hem of her panties. Before she had time to form a coherent thought in her mind, Sandor‘s other hand left her breast to cup her cheek and he pressed his lips to hers. Sansa kissed him back languorously, clasping her hands his shoulders. The garage’s air was cold on her completely wet nipples and she pushed her chest against him to warm herself, enjoying the hardness of his body against hers.</p>
<p>For an instant, Sandor toyed with the hem of her panties with his index as his other fingers massaged her inner thigh. Sansa’s pulse pounded in her ears loudly enough to deafen, she was nervous, but also, oh so exalted. Her excitement was akin to that one experienced before leaving for a grand adventure to unknown territories, and that was pretty much it in truth. Sansa had no idea where this would lead. Would he want to go… to go all the way?</p>
<p>Although she expected it, when Sandor finally slid his finger underneath the crotch of her panties, Sansa inhaled a shaking breath. Her body stiffened momentarily, but Sandor kissed her mouth all the more and she relaxed against him.</p>
<p>With his fingertip, he found her cleft and traced the outline of her lower lips, parting them slightly. “Little bird… you’re soaked…” he commented between kisses as he dipped his finger between her lips. He explored her folds, spreading the wetness around.</p>
<p>Though she was aware of how wet she was, to hear it said aloud brought a deep blush to Sansa’s cheeks. The raw growl Sandor exhaled made it clear her embarrassment was unwarranted, that he was more than pleased by her state. With his forefinger, he found her clit and traced concise circles over it. The sensation it triggered was intense but delectable and Sansa couldn’t stop herself from whimpering in his mouth. She writhed against Sandor’s robust torso, her hands gripping his shoulders desperately as if she feared she might fall into the void.</p>
<p>“You like that?” Sandor asked lowly.</p>
<p>Sansa was too flustered to answer, but that didn’t seem to matter much. Leaving her mouth, he lowered his face to the tender flesh at the junction of neck and shoulder. He kissed and bit her lightly there, his finger insistently caressing he nub.</p>
<p>Gradually, Sansa accustomed herself to his touch. Humming softly, she allowed herself to enjoy his ministrations and the deep pulsation they woke in her centre. They got into a rhythm of sorts with Sansa balancing her pelvis ever so slightly against his hand, yet just as she was starting to really get into it, Sandor removed his finger from her clit and grabbed each sides of her panties.</p>
<p>“Take that off,” he muttered. He had the eyes of a madman and for some reason, the sight stirred her.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Sansa whispered softly.</p>
<p>Biting her lip, she shifted her position to allow him to pull her panties down. They got stuck on  her ballerinas as they got to her ankles but, with a push of each heel, she managed to remove them and her shoes and panties all ended in a pile on the floor beneath the workbench.</p>
<p>Sandor bunched up her plaid skirt over her stomach and, without meaning it, Sansa closed her thighs.</p>
<p>“Gods, little bird. Don’t do that. Come on, let me see your pretty little pussy,” he pleaded, his voice low and gravelly.</p>
<p>Letting out a nervous little giggle, Sansa did as he asked and spread her legs as widely as she comfortably could even though it felt unnatural. Shivering like a leaf, she averted her gaze and anxiously waited for his reaction.</p>
<p>It didn’t take very long. The sound Sandor made was half growl, half laugh. “It’s beautiful,” he rasped, his stare glued to her pussy. He looked up at her body, his eyes darkening all the more. “Little bird, you’re beautiful. Every inch of you is.”</p>
<p>Sansa was so pleased, she wanted to melt into him. “Thank you, Sandor,” she breathed shyly. </p>
<p>Sandor grinned, his gaze darting back to her open folds. “Let me get a taste of you. I bet you taste like heaven,” he muttered.</p>
<p>Dropping to his knees, he yanked her to the edge of the workbench. “I’ve dreamed of going down on you often, you know,” he remarked.</p>
<p><em>Did he really?</em> Sansa mused, her stomach fluttering. But she didn’t have much time to ponder his claim as Sandor immediately lowered his head between her thighs. His tongue was on her cleft, tasting her like she was some rare delicacy. Sansa let out a throaty little squeak. She couldn’t believe what was happening and felt as If her heart would jump out of her chest, still this was undeniably heavenly. His tongue was hungry for her and worked on her with all the care and dedication in the world.</p>
<p>Sandor circled both her hips with his hands and slid them to her buttock to palm her cheeks, then to her thighs and belly to knead the soft flesh there before repeating the same restless sequence. There was an urgency to each of his movements, like his actions were vital to his very survival. Between each of his licks, he panted against her and the primal little grunts he uttered every now and then turned Sansa’s insides to molten lava. It was thrilling to witness him in such a frenzy knowing it was all thanks to her. She had that much effect on him, a notion which she found just as intoxicating as the attention he lavished on her. Anchoring her hands to his shoulders, Sansa whimpered and shut her eyes, her face contorting in pleasure.</p>
<p>As Sandor feasted on her, her skirt kept falling over his face and he finally had enough and left her cleft.</p>
<p>“That damn skirt of yours. I should’ve torn it from you from the start,” he hissed as he vainly attempted to pull it down.</p>
<p>“There’s a strap,” Sansa told him, her face burning like hot coal. She undid it for him and Sandor threw the piece of cloth to the floor to join the rest of her uniform underneath the workbench and returned to his task at once.</p>
<p>Sansa was completely naked now, she realised headily. It was such a strange feeling; she had never been so exposed to anyone’s sight. Not that Sandor’s gaze was taking her in at the moment, he was too busy eating her pussy to look anywhere else. His devotion was definitely paying off. Sansa was mewing and wiggling nearly uncontrollably and she could barely think straight anymore. With his tongue, Sandor started penetrating her. He repeated the gesture a few times before replacing it with a finger and resuming flipping his tongue over her nub. Another finger joined his index almost at once and while it was slightly uncomfortable at first, Sansa swiftly accustomed herself to the invasion.</p>
<p>Moaning deeply, Sansa dug her hands into Sandor hair. Pressure was building in her, a sensation she recognised well enough for having timidly caressed herself on a few occasions when she was alone in her bed at night. Experiencing it with someone else was a whole other feeling though, especially when that someone was Sandor. There was nothing timid about his mouth and fingers either and the contrast with her own touch only added to the intensity of her response. The knowledge that it was him eliciting all those sensations in her, that it was his strong hands stroking and fingering her was about to send her over the edge…</p>
<p>And then taking her by surprise with its suddenness, a gigantic wave of devastating pleasure abruptly coursed through her. Like the coming tide, it receded and washed over her repetitively, each time returning with more strength until Sansa lost control of herself completely. She cried out, utterly overwhelmed and elated. Unwittingly, she bucked her hips against Sandor’s face as she rode her orgasm even as his lips, fingers and togue tirelessly worked on her.</p>
<p>“Seven hells,” Sandor breathed when she was done. Removing his mouth from her folds, he looked up at her, his eyes gleaming in the dimness of the garage. “That was beautiful, Sansa… But I’m about to go mad.” Tilting his head to the side, he stood up in one fluid and rapid, feline-like movement and licked away some of her juice he had glistening around his mouth. “<em>I need you,” he</em> added, unbuckling his belt.</p>
<p>Unzipping his jeans, Sandor freed his dick and placed its head against her open cleft. Sansa’s eyes widened as she saw its considerable size, but she didn’t have time to process what was happening till he aimed it at her entrance, ready to impale her.</p>
<p>“I’m… I’m a virgin,” Sansa said as she felt the tip of his member enter her.</p>
<p>Sandor paused and gazed up from where they were about to be joined to meet her stare with his, a dark cloud falling upon him. “You are, aren’t you?” he asked flatly. His mouth twitching, he exhaled a heavy breath. “Of course, you are. Shit.” For a moment, Sansa believed he would not go through with this after all, but then he shook his head and sighed. “Well fuck it,” he cursed. His eyes boring into hers, he cupped her cheek with one hand and clamped the other after her hip. “I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he said as he began entering her, slowly.</p>
<p>Sansa felt herself stretch around him a bit more with each of his little shoves in her. Grabbing his upper arms, she dug her fingers into Sandor’s muscles through the sleeves of his t-shirt and bit hard at her lip to keep herself from whimpering. The last thing she wanted was for him to realise he was hurting her. What if he interpreted her reaction as a sign that she wanted him to stop? It was not that bad anyway. Sansa knew experiencing some pain was inevitable when a girl lost her virginity and she was so glad that it was Sandor taking it. She hadn’t hoped for so much – it was like a dream come true in fact. Through half opened eyes, she gazed at his strong torso and marvelled at how it shook ever so slighting as he made his way into her. By the time he was finally entirely sheathed in her, Sansa was filled to bursting. Groaning, Sandor threw his head back and stayed motionless for a time, his chest heaving and his ragged breathing filling the space.</p>
<p>Sansa’s insides were pulsing around his dick in a mix of pain and pleasure, the tender flesh burning and yet swollen with arousal. The sensation was unexpectedly exhilarating and knowing  it was him she felt inside of her was incredibly satisfying.</p>
<p>Shutting her eyes, Sansa sighed and smiled to herself. “I love you,” she breathed.</p>
<p>Immediately, Sandor’s powerful body tensed against her. “Little bird… no… don’t say that,” his rough voice muttered. With that, he started rocking his hips against hers, his large dick sliding in and out of her seamlessly.</p>
<p>Snaking her arms around his neck, Sansa swayed her hips following his movements and stared right at him. “I love you,” she repeated obstinately, louder this time.</p>
<p>“Bloody fuck,” Sandor rasped. There was an angry edge to his words, yet for all of that, he found her lips with his and kissed her.</p>
<p>Sansa kissed him back eagerly. As their tongues and lips caressed each other, Sandor put his palms on her thighs spreading them a little more and drawing her to him. At this new angle, his shaft reached deeply within her and Sansa gasped, her head rolling backward. Their hips moved in unison and each of his pushes were unbelievably fluid.</p>
<p>“You’re so fucking tight, fit me like a glove…” Sandor muttered.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Sansa murmured, tightening her arms around him. She loved the idea of being tailor made for him, wanted to be his perfect woman.  She would strive to be everything he desired for as long as he wanted of her, she knew it already.</p>
<p>Wet sounds could be heard as Sandor thrusted himself in her, and while Sansa knew there was nothing wrong with it, she couldn’t help but blush.</p>
<p>“Gods, you’re so wet for me, little bird. You really want my cock, don’t you?” Sandor asked her, leaning over her to nip at her neck.</p>
<p>A hot flush rose to Sansa’s cheeks. Did he really expect her to answer? In doubt, she decided to go for it. It would not do to lie to the man of her dreams.</p>
<p>“Yes, I love it,” she replied softly.</p>
<p>Sandor slid both his hands to her waist. “Fuck, I’ll give it to you then.”</p>
<p>With a vice-like grip, he held her in place and shoved himself in and out of her with increasing vigour. Sansa yelped and arched her back to allow him better access. Propping her hands behind her, she rolled her hips, her groans coming louder and louder with each of his shoves. The friction of his big member against her inner walls was about to drive her mad. It was divine and yet never seemed to be enough and left her wanting more each time he withdrew from her. Thankfully, his dick only left for a fraction of second before it buried itself balls deep in her again. A low pounding was rousing in her loins and with it came a feeling of heaviness that spread through her limbs all the way to her extremities. Same as if she was possessed, Sansa shamelessly ground herself against him, her body undulating and lustful gaze raking over him.</p>
<p>Sansa was most definitely sore, but she couldn’t have cared less. She wanted all of Sandor and was ready to offer herself entirely to his thirst. She loved feeling his strength as he claimed her. He was such an imposing figure with his massive height and build - his opponents must have pissed themselves when they saw him enter the ring during his time as an MMA fighter. Sansa should’ve been scared too: he could easily break her in two with his bare hands had he wished it, yet Sandor would never hurt her, she knew that for a fact. He could be soft for her, gentle. Even now, though his hold on her was firm, his fingers trembled more and more as he yanked her to him. <em>I’m making him weak</em>, Sansa mused dreamily. She could tell he was about to reach his breaking point.</p>
<p>Her instincts were true, for an instant later, Sandor shook against her. “Little bird, I’m just about to lose it,” he whispered. “Let me go.” With that, he pulled away from her and withdrew his dick from her cleft.</p>
<p>Grabbing his penis in a hard grip, he pumped it just a couple of times before he ejaculated on her belly. The bulk of his cum landed on the flat planes of her lower stomach, but a few fat drops fell over her parted folds. Stroking himself, Sandor groaned, his eyes lowered on the mess he was making. After his climax receded, he remained standing between her legs, his shoulders slumped and head casted downward. A hand propped on the workbench by her side to balance his weight, he puffed, his chest rising and falling in violent successions.</p>
<p>Sansa was still hot and bothered. She longed for Sandor’s large hands on her; her orgasm was only just a few caresses away, she could feel it. If she’d been bold enough, she’d have asked him to eat her pussy to finish her off this way again. That would’ve been glorious. The long black stands of hair that fell over Sandor’s face prevented her from seeing him well. Sansa wanted to push them away and kiss his scarred cheek, yet instead, she watched his broad shoulders heave up and down as he slowly caught his breathe and waited for him to say something.</p>
<p>“I shouldn’t have done that,” Sandor rasped after what seemed like an eternity, still not looking at her.</p>
<p>Sansa flinched same as if she’d been slapped in the face. These weren’t the gentle words she hoped for. “Done what?” she asked.</p>
<p>Snorting, Sandor lifted his head up to meet her gaze. “Fuck you, of course. What else did you think?”</p>
<p>Gulping, Sansa straightened her back and lifted her chin up wilfully. “What was wrong with it? I loved it.”</p>
<p>Sandor sniggered, looking at her like she had lost her mind. He cupped her cheek with his palm, his thumb caressing her bottom lip softly. “I know you did, Sansa. I did too. But don’t tell me you’re naive enough not to realise how wrong this was. You’re not that sheltered, are you? If anyone walked in on us just now, you can be sure they’d see me as nothing but the big bad wolf. And they wouldn’t be wrong, that’s what I am, really...”</p>
<p>He paused for an instant, waiting for a reply, but Sansa said nothing, too shaken by this sudden change of mood to speak. Her eyes were pricking with tears, but she blinked to keep them at bay and bit her lip hard.</p>
<p>“You just turned sixteen a few weeks ago by the buggering Stranger. I’m fucking thirty-two – <em>did you know that</em>? I should bloody know better than to fuck teenagers. I could go to prison for this.”</p>
<p>“I don’t care how old you are,” Sansa countered, bringing her hands to his chest. “Age is but a number and I love you!” she added passionately.</p>
<p>“Age is but a number, so long as both parties are legal. As it is, you’re just jailbait to me. I’m really fucking dumb to have screwed you,” Sandor spat, the burnt corner of his mouth twitching. “You’re too young to be trusted with your own feelings. You think you love me… but what the fuck is that belief worth? You have no idea what it even means.”</p>
<p>His words wounded her as much as an arrow to the heart. “That’s not true! I’m young, yes, but I know how I feel! No one - not even you! - is gonna tell me otherwise! I love you! You saved me…”</p>
<p>“Doesn’t give me a free pass to fuck you,” Sandor rasped, his face pulling in a sneer. “I know for a fact that attorney daddy of yours will make sure I pay for this if ever he learns what I did to his sweet little daughter. He won’t be any more indulgent of my little slip because I saved your life, believe that.” He barked a rough laugh devoid of any humour at that.</p>
<p>Tears welled in Sansa’s eyes. Why did he have to be so mean? Had they not just made love? Jerking her head aside, she recoiled from him and pushed her knees and hands into his torso with all of her might.</p>
<p>“Get away from me, then!” she shrieked. “If that’s the way you feel, that I’m just some stupid girl who has no idea what she’s doing, that I’m a mistake you made, then I don’t want to have anything to do with you ever again either!” she exclaimed, a torrent of tears rolling down her cheeks.</p>
<p>At first, Sandor was too taken aback by her outburst to react, but then his features hardened and he circled her elbows with his hands. “Stop that!” he told her, tugging her against him to immobilise her. “And please don’t you bloody cry. I just… I just can’t stand it.”</p>
<p>Sansa did not struggle and allowed him to pull her flush against him. “It’s all your fault,” she reproached in between sobs.</p>
<p>His expression unreadable, Sandor stared her in the eyes for a moment. “It is, you’re right. I told you I was an asshole, didn’t I?”</p>
<p>Ignoring him, Sansa averted her gaze and kept on weeping quietly.</p>
<p>“Fuck, little bird, <em>stop</em>,” he said, his words coming off like a plea, albeit a frustrated one. When she did not do as he bade, Sandor exhaled through his nose, his discouragement as clear as the day. “Careful, girl. You saw how well I handled your tears the first time around? Want me to fuck you again?” he asked, the question sounding like it a threat.</p>
<p>Sansa glowered back at him and sniffed. “If it means you won’t reject me: yes, fuck me, Sandor.”</p>
<p>The growl he uttered seemed to come from the very depth of his chest. His eyes wide and furious, Sandor bared his teeth defiantly. “Don’t say things like that.”</p>
<p>As he spoke, Sansa felt his dick swell against her. Gathering her courage, she found it with her hand and closed her fist around it. Sandor stiffened and shut his eyes, his face contorting as if he was in pain. He brought his hand over hers and while Sansa expected him to push it away, he clenched it firmly over her fist.</p>
<p>“Harder,” he told her, guiding her hand up and down his length. It was as solid as steel and Sansa let out a little noise of surprise, unused as she was to the feel of a man’s member. The texture was so strange, so foreign…</p>
<p>“Oh, fuck,” Sandor cursed under his breath, a shiver running down his spine. “I swear it, you’ll be my undoing, little bird<em>. I swear it</em>. From the very first moment I saw you. I knew you’d be nothing but trouble.”</p>
<p>And with that, he scooped her in his arms and carried her to his bedroom. </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone! I wrote a short follow up for this fic. For the time being, I have no intention of seriously continuing it, so see it as a bonus vignette that will most likely lead nowhere. If ever I add more chapters to this fic, it’s probably gonna be the same sort of random little scenes, so no true plot to come with this fic. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I didn’t feel like leaving this universe yet after I finished the two original chapters and wanted to revisit it just a little bit more. Please let me know what you think!</p><p>As always, special thanks to Athena-Noctua-Bubo for betaing this fic !</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was midnight at long last and Sansa smiled to herself as she finally saw the bright green numbers change to <em>12:00</em> on her clock radio. For more than an hour now, she laid in bed with the light off, watching vapid videos on her phone to pass the time, but she was too distracted to do anything else.   Every minute stretched painfully to the point it felt like hours and her eyes kept obsessively darting to the clock in hopes the moment to leave would come at last - <em>and it now had, thank the Seven</em>!</p><p>As she ate dinner with her family a few hours earlier, Sansa came to the conclusion that waiting till tomorrow after school to see Sandor again was too much torture and that she simply couldn’t do it. She had not seen him since yesterday afternoon, which was forever already, and the idea of being apart from him for another day on top of that was intolerable. This morning after breakfast, her mother had insisted she go shopping with her and by the time they’d returned home, it was already past 6pm and time to eat dinner, which didn’t allow her to go for one of those long afternoon ‘walks’ she recently started taking on the weekends. Sansa would have to sneak out, but doing so in the evening was too risky, her parents would surely catch her if she tried. Waiting till midnight when everyone would be fast asleep seemed like the safest route to take.</p><p>Easing her comforter and sheets off of her, Sansa stood on her feet and walked to her desk on tiptoes. As quietly as possible, she carried her chair to the window and climbed over it. Her room was in the basement which made for an easy escape through the well and in no time, she was in the yard. As she stood to her full height by the house, Sansa gazed around herself, a shiver running through her, but it had less to do with the cold autumn air enveloping her than the rush of nervousness and excitement coursing through her veins. Unlike some of her classmates, or Arya most likely, Sansa had never snuck out at night before. She’d never been tempted either, what was the point after all? That was before Sandor of course - she could see the point very clearly now. Spending time with him was well worth being a bit naughty.</p><p>Bending over to make herself less noticeable, Sansa ran towards the front yard where she wouldn’t be seen from her parents’ room and then headed towards Sandor’s house. The pajamas she wore were loose around her frame and offered very little protection against the chilly weather, but the worst was her bare feet on the frigid, humid grass. She quivered as she finally reached Sandor’s living room window, her teeth chattering and goosebumps covering her skin. Tapping on the glass, Sansa spoke against the screen where the window was slightly open.</p><p>“Sandor,” she called. “Sandor are you there?”</p><p>The buzz of his television informed her he had not gone to sleep yet, still at first, she got no answer.</p><p>“Sandor! It’s me!” Sansa called again, a little louder this time.</p><p>Noises came from further away in the house, the kitchen probably, followed by footfalls rapidly approaching in her direction. They stopped by the window and a large shadow fell on her, blocking whatever dim light passed through the curtains.</p><p>“Little bird?” Sandor’s raspy voice came, raw with confusion.</p><p>He pulled up the blinds and met her gaze through the screen.</p><p>“What the fuck are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”</p><p>“Yes,” Sansa replied softly. “But I missed you. Please let me in, Sandor! I’m cold!”</p><p>Sandor cursed. “Yes, get the fuck inside before your parents have a chance to see you, waiting by my window in the middle of the bloody night.”</p><p>In a rush, Sandor opened the window and removed the screen. He helped her in by pulling her up with his hands around her upper torso and as he released his hold on her, Sansa fell to the floor on her bum and burst out laughing.</p><p>As for Sandor, he did not seem amused. “What the fuck is the meaning of this, Sansa? Stop laughing! Have you lost your bloody mind?”</p><p>Pouting, Sansa forced a sheepish air on her face. “I told you already. I missed you.” As she spoke, she got on her knees and circled her arms around his waist.</p><p>“That’s madness, little bird. You shouldn’t be here,” he said, but already, she could tell he was losing his resolve.</p><p>“But now that I am, aren’t you happy to see me?” Sansa asked softly, tightening her arms around him. Already she had her answer as she felt his dick harden against her.</p><p>Sandor sighed, well aware there was no point in lying. “Of course, I am, little bird. I’d just rather we don’t take unnecessary risks. That thing between us, it’s reckless enough already as it is,” he rasped, caressing her hair gently with both his hands. “But since you’re here…”</p><p>“Yes?” Sansa asked, pressing her cheek harder against his dick. She could already feel every detail of it through his sweat pants.</p><p>He groaned. “Suck it, little bird…”</p><p>Sansa smiled. That was pretty much what she had in mind when she left her bedroom. “You’d like that?” she asked, gazing at him through her lashes.</p><p>“Can’t you feel it? Take me in your mouth, Sansa…”</p><p>“Alright,” she murmured.</p><p>With that, Sansa pulled down his sweat pants till his waistband rested just under his balls. As she did, his huge member fell on her face and hit her nose. She squeaked and then broke into a fit of giggles.</p><p>“You attacked me!” she exclaimed.</p><p>“Didn’t mean to, pretty bird. Sorry,” Sandor breathed.</p><p>Beaming at him, Sansa circled his shaft with both her hands. “You’re forgiven,” she whispered. Then, gazing at his massive member with wide eyes, she added: “Gods, It’s so big! It’s hard to believe it actually all fits in me.”</p><p>Sandor chuckled and flashed her a cocky grin. “But it does, little bird. You’d like me to remind you afterwards?” he asked, looking down at her hungrily.</p><p>Nodding, Sansa licked the tip of his dick and smiled proudly as Sandor shivered. She loved how sensitive he was to her every little touch.</p><p>“Go on, little bird, don’t be a tease,” Sandor urged her.</p><p>“Be patient,” she scolded him, yet for all of that, she immediately took him in her mouth.</p><p>“Fuck,” he muttered, his hands stiffening over her head.</p><p>Sansa swallowed as much of him as she dared and swirled her tongue around his length, enjoying the now familiar, tangy taste of him. Burying his fingers in her hair, Sandor cursed and threw his head back. His reaction pleased Sansa immensely. In the few weeks since they’d started sleeping together, she had learned so much about sex. Already, she felt pretty confident and always knew exactly how to get the response she craved. Witnessing Sandor lose it was like a drug, one she was now totally addicted to.</p><p>Pulling back until only the head of his dick remained in her mouth, Sansa sucked hard and closed her fist around his shaft. With her hand, she pumped him, her lips following her fist with the movement and head bobbing back and forth.</p><p>Sandor kept groaning and she could tell his knees were getting weak by the slight tremble in his thighs. She grabbed them from behind, enjoying the feel of the solid muscles beneath her fingers and palms.</p><p>“Gods, look at me, baby,” Sandor grunted. He caressed her cheek and lifted her chin slightly with his thumb.</p><p>Sansa gazed up at him adoringly, her mouth so full with his warm, pulsing flesh, her jaw was starting to ache.</p><p>“Fuck, you’re so bloody beautiful…” Sandor remarked under his breath. Grunting low in his throat, he laid his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back just enough that his dick slid out of her mouth. “Seven Hells, that’s enough, little bird. Get on all four, I need to fuck you, <em>now</em>.”</p><p>Knitting her brows, Sansa shook her head. “No, not like that, not to begin with at least. I want to see you too.” As she spoke, she pulled his sweat pants down his thighs. “You could get on the couch… on your back…” she proposed, a coy little smile curving her lips.</p><p>A deep growl escaped Sandor’s mouth. “Getting bold, are you? Alright, I’ll let you be in charge, if that’s what you want. Not going to refuse you after you sucked me like a queen.”</p><p>Grinning, Sansa stood up and yanked his t-shirt up his stomach. Sandor threw it over his head and once more, Sansa was in awe of his muscular, hairy torso. He was like the Warrior statue at the town’s Sept, only even bigger in his proportions and much fiercer to look at with all the tattoos that covered him. She caressed his muscles, feeling her loins burn like fire.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to remove those clothes though?” Sandor asked. “I’m not getting on that couch unless you’re butt naked, that’s my condition, Sansa.”</p><p>Sansa bit her lip to hide her mirth. She wanted to scoff at him; clothes didn’t seem to bother him all that much when he lifted her skirt and took her from behind in his garage moments after she’d arrived from school, but she was not about to point that out just now.</p><p>“Yes of course, I’ll undress, but please lay down first,” Sansa insisted as she pushed him towards the couch.</p><p>His nostril flaring, Sandor narrowed his eyes at her, but he didn’t resist and took a step back. “Alright, then. You’re the boss, little bird,” he rasped.</p><p>Baring his teeth in a smirk, Sandor fell on the couch laying on his back. He took his dick in hand and started stroking it firmly. Watching in fascination, Sansa pulled her pajama top over her head and squirmed out of her pants. She had not put panties on, knowing very well they would not be of much use, and found herself completely naked in an instant.</p><p>His gaze travelling up and down her curves, Sandor studied her lustily. “You coming now, little bird?”</p><p>“Of course,” Sansa replied.</p><p>Walking to the couch, she straddled him and placed the head of his cock at her entrance. He was so big - already she could feel his impressive girth pitilessly stretch her - but Sansa was not intimidated by his size anymore, to the contrary. Without missing a beat, she swayed her hips and took him in in one sleek, slow thrust till his shaft had completely disappeared in her.</p><p>“Gods,” Sansa moaned, her insides burning in the most delicious way imaginable. “I missed you.”</p><p>A ragged chuckle escaped Sandor’s chest. “Seems like you did indeed. I didn’t even touch you and you’re already soaking wet,” he rasped.</p><p>Sansa let out a cry of outrage. “Sandor!”</p><p>“But it’s true! You’re not gonna deny it, are you? Can’t you feel it?” he asked.</p><p>Laying his hand on her hip, he yanked her towards him just enough to send a jab of bliss to her centre. A blush spread across Sansa’s cheeks as she listened to the wet noise the motion produced, though truth be told, it aroused her as well.</p><p>“Were you touching yourself before you came here, thinking of me as you tried to fall asleep? Is that why you left the warmth of your bed to find me?” Sandor inquired in a low, husky voice. As he spoke, he guided her movements over him with his hands and thrusted himself in her.</p><p>Sansa whimpered and rolled her hips with his. “No, I was not,” she replied, shaking her head vigorously.  His suggestion embarrassed her even though she knew she was being ridiculous. “But I wanted to be with you. Couldn’t wait till tomorrow.”</p><p>Sliding his hands up her ribs, Sandor cupped her boobs and played with her nipples with his thumbs. Apart from that, he’d grown completely still and laid relaxed under her, happy to let her do all the work.</p><p>“You’re a fast learner. You already fuck better than most women I’ve known and you’re just six-teen. Fuck, you’re a true little goddess, Sansa, did you know that?” Sandor rasped, admiring her through heavy-lidded eyes.</p><p>Sansa groaned and threw her head back, her body undulating over him. “Oh, Sandor, I love you,” she breathed, a soft smile curving her lips. With that, she laid her palms on his chest and met his eyes. There was infinite warmth and longing in them. He no longer got mad when she told him she loved him. She could tell he loved her too, even though he wasn’t ready to admit it yet. A part of him still held back, probably because he harboured some guilt for this relationship between them, but that part of him was growing weaker by the day.</p><p>“Seven Hells…” Sandor grunted. “I wished you weren’t so young. You’re the perfect woman for me, Sansa... I’d be proud to show you off around town. It’s a bloody shame we can’t even go for a bike ride together…”</p><p>Sansa loved when he told her things like that. Bowing over him, she pressed her lips to his. Sandor kissed her back with intense passion, his tongue and mouth warm and tasting slightly of beer. For a moment, it was as if the world stopped existing and all that mattered to her was the sensuous dance of their lips and the glorious fullness of her core. The feel of his rough fingers as they found her clit reminded her otherwise and she gasped in his mouth.</p><p>Mewing, Sansa gave a little push on Sandor’s chest with her hands to straighten herself up. Her gaze locked on his, she rolled her hips in wider, forceful circles. Sandor closed his hand around her waist and, his thumb never leaving her nub, he swung his hips to meet her halfway. Already, Sansa sensed her peak coming towards her. It was dangerously near and yet maddeningly out of reach.</p><p>“Press harder, Sandor. Please…” she begged.</p><p>Before he could react, she took the situation in her own hands and changed the angle of her pelvis so that most of her weight was balanced above her entrance, right on her clit. Sandor’s finger got squeezed under her, but he didn’t seem to mind and allowed her to abuse it to her heart’s content.</p><p>“You horny little bird,” Sandor breathed, his eyes flashing darkly. “Go ahead, don’t wait for me. You’re almost there...”</p><p>As he spoke, he cupped her butt with his free hand and softly slid his fingertips between its cheeks. Kneading her pert buttock in his palm, stroked her crack, his insistent finger grazing her asshole. It tickled a little and Sansa wasn’t sure how she felt about being touched <em>there</em> but she was too focused on all the blissful sensations surging through her to let it really bother her. In fact, she was so engrossed in the present moment that she barely noticed as Sandor brought his fingers to his mouth to wet them. He resumed his ministrations like he’d never stopped, yet when his pinky finger started to dip inside of her, Sansa gazed down at him with wide, baffled eyes.</p><p>“Sandor,” she groaned.</p><p>“It’s ok, little bird,” Sandor told her, his finger gently entering her. “Just relax.”</p><p>Sansa should’ve been appalled, however she could hardly think straight and didn’t have it in her to resist.  Her orgasm was at armlengths and nothing could deflect her from her goal of diving right in it, not even Sandor’s large pinky making its way up her ass.  Restlessly, she rubbed herself against him, crushing her clit and revelling in the divine friction of his dick as it glided in and out of her. In no time, Sansa was rewarded for her determination as the pressure that built in her centre morphed to burning hot ecstasy and spread all over her limbs. Momentarily blinded by the strength of her peak, she shook and cried out, overwhelmed in the best way possible.</p><p>As she came, Sandor stuffed his pinky finger up to his second knuckle in her butt. The sensation was foreign, still Sansa didn’t find it all that unpleasant. To the contrary to her surprise, it added to her overall high. Moaning with no restraint, she ground her pelvis against him till she was completely done riding her climax and about to collapse on Sandor. The latter didn’t allow her any rest. No, he seized her by the waist and flipped her on her stomach.</p><p>“Little bird… you should’ve stayed in bed,” he rasped, lowering himself on top of her.  Pulling her ass up, he plunged his cock balls deep in her pussy from behind. “This is what you get for knocking at my door in the middle of the night. But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be fucked senseless?”</p><p>“Yes,” Sansa answered languorously, her voice almost as raspy as his. Her folds were still swollen from her orgasm and while Sandor remained immobile for now, just to have his massive shaft impaled in her sent intoxicating tremors running all across her body.</p><p>Sandor chuckled, his hand travelling to the nape of her neck. With firm yet gentle fingers, he massaged her there and rolled her hair around his palm. Leaning over her, he pulled at it just hard enough to make her gasp and force her to arch into him.</p><p>“Little bird… tell me you’re mine,” he rasped in her ear. As he did, he withdrew his cock from her until only its head remained sheathed and shoved it back in one smooth motion just as soon.</p><p>“I am. I’m yours, all yours,” Sansa answered breathlessly. Her eyes shut, she swayed her hips with his as much as she could with his weight pinning her into the sofa.</p><p>“Good girl, yes, that’s what I want to hear,” Sandor said lowly, his breath warm on her neck.</p><p>With that, he began to well and truly hammer himself in her.  Sansa moaned and gripped her hands on the sofa’s arm.</p><p>“I’m your man?” Sandor asked her. Pulling her hair a little more, he pressed his lips to her neck in a wet open mouthed kiss</p><p>Sansa groaned. “Yes. I don’t want anyone but you, Sandor. No other man,” she murmured.</p><p>Her words did their work of turning him on. Tensing against her, he exhaled a long, ragged breath. “Yes... I like the sound of that,” he rasped, his voice heavy with lust.</p><p>In one jerky movement, Sandor got on his knees and pulled her on all four with his hands around her waist. Without losing a beat, he plunged himself in her and resumed fucking her like his life depended on it.</p><p>Folding her arms on the sofa, Sansa leaned her head over them and pushed her butt up. She gladly received each of Sandor powerful thrusts and squealed in rapture as pleasure rose in her. It was getting quite intense to the point that Sansa wondered if she would come again, yet before that had a chance to happen, Sandor growled and stiffened against her.</p><p>“Fuck!” he hissed between his teeth. As he did, he pulled his dick out of her and, almost instantly, warm cum landed on her bottom and dripped between its cheeks.</p><p>Sandor stroked himself till he was done all the while panting like he had ran a marathon.</p><p>“Seven Hells,” he rasped. “That was close… you really need to get on the pill… we won’t be that lucky forever.”</p><p>Giggling, Sansa met his eyes over her shoulder. “I have an appointment with the school nurse next week. I’ll tell her I have terrible cramps when I have my periods. I have friends that are on the pill for that reason”</p><p>Sandor flashed her a crooked, toothy grin. “That’s my girl.”</p><p>Beaming, Sansa nodded for him to join her. “Come over here,” she asked. “I want you to hold me tight.”</p><p>“Whatever you want, pretty bird”, Sandor said, moving to her side to lay on the couch besides her.</p><p>Sansa shifted over to give him space and they snuggled together. For a time, they relaxed skin to skin, distractedly watching television. There was a documentary about the last great Essos war playing, but Sansa didn’t really listen. No, she was too taken by her own thoughts to pay attention.</p><p><em>We’re lovers,</em> she thought proudly. While her girlfriends were dating skinny little boys, she was making love almost daily with the manliest man she’d ever met. It was a pity she couldn’t boast about it, she wished she could tell everyone how happy and in love she was. But she couldn’t, of course. No one could learn about them, theirs was a forbidden love…</p><p>Sandor’s body smelled so good and his skin was as warm as a furnace; to lay nestled against him was incredibly comforting. Sansa almost fell asleep, but then the sound of an explosion coming from the television set brought her back to reality. It was the recreation of a very famous battle that had taken place during the siege of Norvos and as the narrator described how nearly a third of the city had been destroyed in just a week, Sansa yawned and sat up.</p><p>“What time is it?” she asked groggily. Before Sandor could reply, she saw the bright blue numbers on the digital clock of the old DVD player and gasped. “Oh, my gods! I really should be going now!”</p><p>Frowning at her, Sandor slid both his hands around her waist. “Go? But where?”</p><p>“Home of course! Where else could I be going at this time of the night?” Sansa asked him with laughter in her voice.</p><p>A displeased growl escaped Sandor’s throat. “Why so soon? I still want you, Sansa. That was just the first round.”</p><p>Drawing her brows together, Sansa eyed him with amusement. “But you didn’t want me here in the first place, don’t you remember? You were right that I should’ve stayed home. I need to get back before my parents find out I’m gone.”</p><p>With that, she squirmed out of his grasp and though Sandor tried to draw her back, Sansa was too fast and quickly stood up and took a few steps away from him. She picked up her pajamas from the floor and hurriedly put on her pants.</p><p>Glaring at her, Sandor sat up on the couch. “You shouldn’t have come, that’s true enough, but since you’re here already, I don’t see how staying just a bit longer would change much of anything,” he rasped. With that, he swung himself to his feet and walked towards her</p><p>Sansa jumped in place and, a thrilling shiver ran down her spine, she turned her back to him and ran to the entryway with the same haste as if she feared for her life. “No, Sandor! I really need to go!” she cried out, sliding her pajama top over her head even as she fled away from him.</p><p>“You’re wrong. What you need is to lay naked in my bed with my face buried between your thighs. What do you say about that, little bird?” Sandor let out, racing after her.</p><p>Sansa giggled but she didn’t reply and shortly got to the front door. She opened it and stepped out before Sandor could catch up with her.</p><p>“Seven Hells, girl! Fuck! Come back over here!” Sandor hissed at her from the entryway.</p><p>He didn’t follow her outside, thankfully. It wouldn’t have looked very good had her parents gazed out their widow to see their nearly seven feet tall muscle-bound thirty-two year old neighbour sprinting after Sansa in the yard, butt naked as he tried to capture her. The imagine made her laugh, still Sansa bit her lip and kept quiet as she entered through her bedroom window.</p><p>Minutes later, as she lay under her blankets again, she heard a little chirping sound and short vibration coming from the side of her bed. Sansa picked her phone up from the night table and saw a text from Sandor. She opened it, smiling to herself.</p><p><em>You bloody tease,</em> it said. <em>You’re gonna pay for that tomorrow.</em></p><p>A deep blush burning her cheeks, Sansa put her phone down on her chest and sighed happily. Gods, that promised to be awesome! She couldn’t wait!</p><p> </p>
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